


To Marry A Blonde Git

by honsukasara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-12-29 17:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18298847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honsukasara/pseuds/honsukasara
Summary: Hermione Granger's life after the second wizarding war is not good. She goes back to Hogwarts alone, hoping that her depression could just go away with the familiarity of her school and the normality she eventually get. But she meets Malfoy in the train, and somehow he looks better than her. So, just how, that she suddenly finds herself thrown into the future? As a newly wed. Malfoy's bride.





	1. Hermione's Depression

TO MARRY A BLONDE GIT  
Chapter 1: Hermione’s Depression  
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling  
This story belongs to @honsukasara  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Hermione’s POV  
This year’s going to be my year.  
No more Voldemort. No more Death Eaters (well, there are some in hiding, but let’s forget about them). No more war. No more camping. No more blood. No more death.  
I wait for Hogwarts Express to come. My best friends, the ones that decide that they’ve done with school and thought that auror training is better, stand beside me. But I want to get things done one and for all. The reason why I went to school years ago when I was eleven was to graduate proudly with brilliant score of NEWTS. There’s no way I could abandon that dream of mine. Not even after I got myself The Order of Merlin: First Class as a heroine of the second wizarding war. As one of The Golden Trio. As the brightest witch of my age. If Harry and Ron want to go to chase some more dark wizards, then so be it. I just want to calm my nerves and be a normal student for once. Without me have to keep us from being expelled or failed at exams.  
“Are you really alright, Hermione?” asks Harry. “I mean, if you want to take a break for a year or so, I can guarantee that McGonagall gives you that permission.”  
Of course she’ll give me. But I don’t want that.  
Harry looks at me as if I am the kicked puppy, which I am might look like right now. I don’t feel good. Well, I feel like I can collapse at any moment. I’m worried about things, but you can’t blame me. There could be a death eater in the train right now coming for me, waiting until I settled in one of the compartment all by myself and attacking me after threatening the whole train full of students and teachers.  
“Hermione… Hermione!” Yeah, Harry makes that face again. The face that shows that I should go to St. Mungo’s right now. As if I need treatment for magical maladies and injuries right now. “Hey, don’t you hear me?”  
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Yes, yes I am alright.”  
“You don’t look healthy, Hermione.” It’s Ron this time. “You really want to do this?”  
“Yes, Ron. You’ve asked me a hundred times already. I want to get my own NEWTS.” I shout at him. I know I’m being rude and all, but they really bothered me since like a month ago. Or more. I don’t really remember.  
“Let’s get you to the compartment, then,” said Harry.  
I didn’t realize that the train is already here. Did I really lose in thought? I look at my watch. Five minutes before eleven.  
Harry walks in front of me and Ron, checking the compartment one by one to find the empty one. It is almost the last compartment near the back of the train that he finally deems it good enough for me. Along the way, Ron’s holding one of my hand and guiding me through the crowd while his other hand carrying my suitcase. It’s long since we both realize that nothing romantic ever happened between us. We love each other in a platonic way, just like how I love Harry and how I love each of his sibling. Then I sit there while look at Ron adjusting my suitcase.  
“We’re going, Hermione.” Harry hugs me. “Write a letter as soon as you arrived. Know that you can always come back home.”  
I cannot hug him back. My hands are just too numb.  
“Or you can just floo-call us. Believe me, McGonagall wouldn’t mind.” Ron hugs me too, and again, I cannot move my hands to hug him back. “We’re going to miss you.”  
“Miss you too,” finally I manage to speak.  
Both of them look at me with worries plastered on their faces. Is my condition that bad? I just feel that I am done with people need me all the time so I want to act as I please.  
I want to get my NEWTS done. I want to worry myself about death eaters in hiding. I want to live my life without anyone’s suggest. I want to love the man I want to. Yes, and I want to forget about all war-related.  
“Granger.”  
I snap my head at the compartment’s door. There stand with not so regal pose, the one and only death eater not in hiding: Draco Malfoy.  
I tremble. This is it. He wants to kill me.  
Looking at me, he closes the door quickly and guards it with his wand. Then he stands in front of me and holds both of my shoulders. “Hey, don’t pass out!” he screams. I feel like I just running and catch my breath. “I don’t know you’re here first. But know you’re in bad condition, I’ll be damned if I go out. First person I meet outside this compartment will instantly send me to Azkaban after finding you in that condition. Even if I don’t do anything.”  
Azkaban. Right. He’ll go to the Azkaban as soon as possible if he tries anything to me. It’s alright. It’s alright. As soon as I could handle myself, I get his hands out of my shoulders.  
“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” I snap.  
“Look, if you don’t want me here, I’ll go. Just… Just please don’t make this more difficult for me. I’m suffered enough.  
“No,” I shake my head. “Just sit there. I’m sorry.”  
Of course he suffered enough. His parents went to Azkaban because Harry testified just for him. Some of his family assets went to ministry too, but it looks like he’s still rich enough to make his own life. And to buy that outfit.  
Malfoy sits across of me. He reads something that looks like a copy of 7th years text book about potion. A book that I should have read months ago. But I didn’t have time because… because they said that I still tried to manage my depression.  
Depression.  
As if it is just me that went crazy after the war.  
“You okay?” Oh, God. Am I just staring at him? “You’re staring,” he says without lifting his head.  
“No, I mean, yes. I just, a little bit worried.” He glances to my direction and closes the book on his lap. “You are… I mean you were a Dea… Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that. I am just rambling nonsense.”  
I almost slip and call him a Death Eater in front of his face. Do you have a death wish, Hermione Granger?  
“That you are, Granger,” said him. “I heard about you, too.”  
“About me?” I haven’t read Daily Prophet since a few months back. Well, I can’t really read anything when I was hiding myself under the warm blanket in my dark room. I needed reassurance that I was safe back then. And still. “Are you talking about The Prophet?”  
He shrugs. “Yes, and other newspapers. I thought they were exaggerating your condition. Now I know they’re not.”  
“What did they say?” I feel sweat on my forehead. This sounds bad.  
I can see Malfoy wetting his dry lips from here. His gaze fixes into mine. “They said that you were in a bad condition. That you were suffered after the war.”  
“Don’t we all?” I ask. Because the war is really bad and last time I check, it even causes chaos outside Britain.  
“We do suffer.” He leans into me. “You are one of the main characters of the winning side and you lost that much. Can you imagine how is it to be me?”  
I feel like I want to cry. If Malfoy won’t kill me with his wand, now he will kill me with guilt alone.  
“Yet we get up and move on, Granger. Not stuck our nose in the past and sink in fear.”  
I want to object. I might have suffered more because of him and his lord. But then a very strong light hits my eyes until I feel like I’m in pain. The world rotates too fast around me until it settles and I forced to stand up.  
I cannot see anything yet. There’s something blocking my eyes. But the last thing I know before I’m black out is that I say, “I do.”


	2. Mrs. Malfoy

TO MARRY A BLONDE GIT  
Chapter 2: Mrs. Malfoy  
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling  
This story belongs to @honsukasara  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
It doesn’t feel like Hogwarts Express’s compartment chair. The sheet is way too soft and too clean under my fingers even when I don’t see it. There is no train noise like as it should be. And I am lying on a very soft and comfortable mattress, not sitting on a hard chair.  
Well, where am I?  
It is hard to open my eyes. But there are some humming that I could hear so there must be people around me. Maybe a teacher, or Malfoy guards the door again so no one can enter our compartment and find me unconscious. I don’t know. Maybe he’s really trying to kill me. I know first hand that revenge sucks.  
Finally, I managed to open my eyes even when it is too bright in that room. The first face I could catch is Malfoy’s. Then there is a healer. Wait, this is not a compartment in Hogwarts Express.  
“Are you alright?” Malfoy asks. I nod. His worried face is really bad, like he aged ten years older or something. “Healer Johnson is going to examine you.” I nod again.  
When the healer, Healer Johnson, flips his wand above me, I inspect the room as much as I could. It looks like I am in a room in St. Mungo’s. Maybe I really should listen to Ron and Harry, and take a break from life, go to a long holiday outside Britain and get myself some boyfriends, before looking for whatever Britain offers to a war heroine. Maybe getting good NEWTS score isn’t my priority anymore right now. I really feel very bad for myself. War exhausts everyone, but I think that it exhausts me more.  
“Aside from fatigue, you are fine, Mrs. Malfoy. I will give you some potions later, but now I have to leave. Good day, Mr. Malfoy,” he says as he leaves to the door.  
Wait. What did he call me?  
I glance tiredly at my side, looking at Malfoy with a smug grin plastering on his face. “What?” he asks, looking back at my shock and confuse façade. What’s the grin for??  
“What did he call me?” I cough a bit. My voice is hoarse and it hurts my throat when I’m talking. I am panicking inside but can’t show it because whatever happens to my body. Fatigue. Yeah, as if rolling on the bed 24 hours a day could cause fatigue. And that’s what I’ve been doing for months before I got my ass to the station on September 1st.  
Malfoy gives me a big grin that supposedly annoying but at this time, I find rather charming. “Why, Mrs. Malfoy? Can’t even remember your own name?”  
Then it hits me hard like a stupefy. The light. The standing position. The I do.  
I didn’t really recognize it before because nausea after the light hit my eyes, but the white gown I wore was a wedding gown. And I vaguely remember about a man in white robes standing in front of me. I didn’t get the opportunity to look at his face, but the body… the posture… it could be Malfoy. Then, the I do. I said that earlier. The wedding vow.  
I close my eyes again. Merlin, what happens to me?! Can’t you give me a simple, quite life after the war? I can’t take this. Not like this. I suppose that I am not the one attracting troubles all this time. But maybe I am. Maybe it is some sort of Karma after being a know-it-all all these years? I even used the time-turner to know more, to sign more courses than anyone.  
Wait. A time-turner?  
I inhale deeply before open my eyes again. “Malfoy?”  
“Yes. You are officially a Malfoy since three hours ago,” he answers me, mistaking my question. “You don’t look fine though. Do you want me to catch Healer Johnson to give you the potions now?”  
I shake my head. “What is the date today?”  
He looks puzzled, but answers my question. “You haven’t passed out that long, love. It is still valentine’s day.” Love? Oh, Merlin, this is bad.  
“What year?” I demand harshly.  
“2008 of course,” he says. “Look, something is not right with you. You’re sweating too much. I better go and find Healer Johnson right now. Won’t be long.”  
Then he bends over and kiss my forehead as I still fill my brain with the information. When Malfoy is completely out of the door, I hum to myself, “Ten years.”  
***  
Ron, or older version of him, enters my room when I still buried in my thought. Something happened inside the compartment. But if it was a time-turner, should I know? There were just two people in that compartment, me and Malfoy. I absolutely didn’t have the time-turner, let alone set it. So it leaves to Malfoy. But should I realize if Malfoy’s hand doing something suspicious? Malfoy sat in front of me, not two meters apart. And ten years… I don’t even know that time-turner could jump me through the time that long. The light is rather weird too. After almost a year dealing with time-turner in third grade, I know how the device works rather well. It never includes a blinding light. And me losing my conscience.  
What is it? A spell? Malfoy didn’t even have his wand out when he sat, reading that book! A potion? I haven’t eaten since breakfast and that was Mrs. Weasley’s cooking.  
“Hermione.” Ron walks into my bed and takes the chair, the one Malfoy sat not a minute ago.  
I gasp. “Ron?” He looks older. So it is not just Malfoy and his worried face making him older. Now is really ten years later of my life. “Where is everyone?” I ask, because I want to know how everyone is.  
“Sorry, but Harry and my mom are accompanying Ginny right now while everyone else are taking care of the wedding and the guests.” So I was right. There is a wedding. My wedding. With Malfoy. Ten-years-later me, you are a really crazy person. “Bloody hell, Hermione. You gave us quite a scare back then! Was it nerve?”  
Well, at least Malfoy didn’t kill me in that compartment. Maybe he was really care about his education and didn’t want to ruin it with killing a war heroine on the first day.  
“Fatigue, the healer said. What about Ginny?” I start to cough again so Ron gives me a glass of water.  
“Here, drink this. Fine?” I close my eyes for a while before nodding. “Ginny’s in labor not long after you got settled here in your room. Good thing we’ve booked for St. Mungo’s. I’m very excited to be an uncle.”  
His smile is so contagious after a few seconds so I smile too. “Really? Wow.” I take it Ginny’s with Harry now. Good thing, really. As long as I know, they’re both perfect for each other. “Why don’t you accompany her too, then?”  
“Nah, let Mom and Harry handle her. I got enough of her screaming. I just out from her room when I stumbled upon Malfoy. Figured you don’t want to be alone.”  
Actually, I want to be alone. Very much. Because I need time to think. But Ron here is not that bad, especially after he feeds me the information. I think I should panicking a bit, but it feels like a perfect life (except the Malfoy part). Everyone is happy and I feel like I should be happy too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give me much kudos and comments <3


	3. Everyone Else Haven’t Changed

TO MARRY A BLONDE GIT  
Chapter 3: Everyone Else Haven’t Changed  
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling  
This story belongs to @honsukasara  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Married to Malfoy isn’t half bad.   
Well, I am talking about this Malfoy. I cannot even imagine marrying that blonde git ten years back in that compartment. A death eater. A bully. The one who called me mudblood. No. They are definitely different people. I am secretly thinking that perhaps, the time-turner not just jumped me into future, but into different dimension. The dimension when Malfoy is nice and everyone else stays the same. Well, I cannot really judge since I just met two people since I woke up this afternoon (I don’t count Healer Johnson). But I heard about Harry and Ginny earlier. And the rest of The Weasleys. Don’t think they’re changed.   
Now I am sitting on my bed, staring openly at Malfoy who’s tidying my goods into a tiny bag. He’s back after ten minutes, when Ron’s still here. Sure to his words, he carried some nasty potions from the healer and threat me to drink them quickly. I don’t know half of them, but him, being a potion genius more than everyone else I know (maybe except Professor Snape), lecturing me the detail of every potions while smiling like he’s not my enemy for years. Maybe he’s not. Maybe we’re over our rivalries long ago. But surely we’ve been dating quite long, because he kissed my temple two times after I choked on my last potion. Nasty, nasty potion.   
“Everything good, love?” He catch me staring at him for God knows how long.  
I blink. The anxiety hits me hard when he looks deeply at me from such a distance. I haven’t socialized much for the last few months, so it’s hard to speak again. There are not enough adrenaline this time. I gulp. Twice. I try to open my mouth but no sound escapes. So I lower my gaze to my palms that suddenly seems too interesting not to look at.   
Half a second later, Malfoy sits beside me with a glass of water in hand. He’s so fast that I am not sure if he was apparating (which is not sensible, since there’s anti apparition ward in St. Mungo’s patient rooms. I know. I tried things). Or he’s just having that seeker reflex after all. Sure he has Harry’s lean posture, but taller. Much, much taller.   
He puts his hand on my nape, guiding my lips to the glass. “Here, drink the water.” I comply. “Better?” I nod. Suddenly I think I’ve found my voice again. Maybe it was just thirst after all and not my anxiety.   
“Thank you.” I try my voice, but it turns out very hoarse. I don’t think I want to speak much by the way.   
He smiles. This Malfoy has an amazing smile. So vibrant like thousand colors of sunlight, framed by the most beautiful platinum hair I ever known. “No need, love. You’re too polite to me, you know?”  
I don’t think saying thank you is ever too polite to anyone, so I debate him. “I’m saying my gratitude, Mr. Malfoy. A simple thank you is never too polite to say. So, to answer your question, no, I don’t know.”   
“Very cheeky, Mrs. Malfoy. Very cheeky.” He smirks. I smirk back. Good to have a conversation that’s not discussing about why you’re trapping yourself in the darkness of your bedroom.   
Then there’s that silence. I don’t use to speak to this person. To Malfoy. I don’t know what we should talking about. But I think Malfoy doesn’t think anything strange because he’s back tidying my goods.  
“We’re going to Ginny’s room, right?” I ask him. Now I really want to meet the rest and assuring myself that they’re still nice, still people that she knows. “I wanna meet the baby.”  
Malfoy lifts his eyebrow. “Oh, we all wanna meet the baby,” he says. “But you, Godmother, should wanna meet him even more, right?”  
Godmother?  
Godmother?  
Me?  
Oh. My. God.  
I try to appear not too shock. After all, I should have known this fact for Malfoy talking it so openly to me. “Yes. Godmother cannot wait for another minute.”  
“Then come on, Godmother.”  
We walked silently into Ginny’s room, with one of Malfoy’s hand guide me from the small of my back. His other hand, I realize, is holding a wand to levitate our belonging, not that we have much, but he said that it was risky to shrink some of the potions. I agreed immediately.   
My two hands are free, so after Malfoy tells me that we’ve arrived to Ginny’s room, I knock the door with one. Harry comes get the door immediately, looking as if he’s the happiest man on earth right now. Maybe he is.   
“Hermione, Draco!” he greets us excitedly. “Come meet our newborn James Sirius. Here!”  
I smile. This is exactly the Harry Potter I knew. No need to worry about the rest, I guess. “Sure, Harry. Hi, Ginny, and hello baby James.” My voice is still hoarse, and that’s when everyone are finally remember that I was a patient here too until not long ago.   
“Oh, my, are you alright Hermione?” Harry asks me. I nod silently, already going through mid conversation with Ginny. From the corner of my eye, I see Draco politely talking to Ron. It’s fine. I’m here for my godson.  
“So, what happened? What did the healer say?” Ginny asks me from her bed. I sit on the chair on her side, looking at James Sirius who’s deep in his sleep.   
“Nothing. I’m just too tired with wedding preparation and all.” That is an honest answer, right? But I know deep inside me that that’s not it. Maybe it’s me too tired with skipping time for ten years. “Well, don’t you think I should have the privilege to hold him?”  
Ginny laughs. “Of course, Godmother. Go ahead. Just make sure you don’t drop him.”  
Well, everyone else are surely haven’t changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What should I write next?


	4. Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think

TO MARRY A BLONDE GIT  
Chapter 4: Malfoy Manor  
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling  
This story belongs to @honsukasara  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
I spent a good few hours with baby James and the rest. It was so nice to have them back while not treating me like a mental patient. They noticed that I was more quiet than usual, but being a just-released St. Mungo’s patient was enough reason to tell.   
Now, I am back home to the one and only Malfoy Manor. I have no idea whether I’ve been living here in the grand manor for a while or the living arrangement just start after our marriage. Yet I can’t really ask Malfoy, aren’t I?  
“Tipsy!” Malfoy shouts.   
I almost cry out. The effect of the shouting, plus it comes from Malfoy, which is (was?) a Death Eater, makes me scared in a second. Lucky that he has his back on me or he will ask something I cannot answer.  
I reach for one of the armchair and sit there while a cracking sound fills the room. Like what I was expecting, a house elf presents before Malfoy. She bows her head so low it almost touches the floor. But at least this house elf seems fine and has a nice clothing. I want to believe that this nice Malfoy hasn’t been mistreating the poor creature. And all non-magical creatures, perhaps. One can only hope so far.  
“Tipsy is here, Master Draco,” the elf says with a high-pitch voice.  
“I need you to bring Hermione’s belongings to our room. Are the kitchen elves done preparing the dinner?” I don’t hear any scowls. In fact, Malfoy sounds rather friendly, which is a good sign if he wants us to live with house elves.  
Tipsy answers him, “Yes, they are, Master Malfoy. Master and Mistress are waited in the dining room.” And before I realize, my bags have floated from the floor. “Let Tipsy bring this to Master and Mistress room.”  
“You may go, Tipsy.” And then she’s gone with the same cracking sound.   
Malfoy finds me still on the armchair, specifically rubbing my head that hurts a little. “Come on, love. You have to eat first before consuming your potions for the night.”  
I can’t bring my voice out, so I nod.   
“Do you think you can walk or you need me to carry you? I am more than capable and willing to do that.” Malfoy smirks at me in a joking way. Well, we are newlyweds but is the flirting normal? This is one of the times where I wish that I have more dating experience.  
I find something rather funny in his voice so I manage myself to let out a soft giggle. “You wish, Draco.”  
The name flows easily between my lips, as if I’ve called him that forever. Which is not true. Or true for me in this timeline. Merlin, it adds the pain in my head so I let it go.   
Trying to walk to the dining room is rather hard considering the pain that I still feel since Malfoy asked for his house elf. It needs much to keep one of my hand rubbing the spot. I don’t want Malfoy to keep worrying me. Next time I visit St. Mungo’s maybe the time that they know the fatigue I have is the sole effect of time traveling.  
The dining room is so quiet, but indeed it is nice. The huge table consists of ten chairs, but we only use two. I didn’t realize before, but when Malfoy pull a chair for me, I know that his hand links to my hand all the way. Such a gentleman. Maybe that’s why I married him in the first place. I haven’t found any git-related in this Malfoy.  
“From the sight of the food, I will think that there will be another two or three guests to accompany us,” I say after he sits in front of me. “Except you have a really big appetite.”  
“I don’t know, Hermione. Maybe I am. You know me.” Then it hits me hard. I don’t.  
I press my voice so it keeps steady. “Well, it’s just… The food is too much and…”  
“Hey, relax.” His hand reaches for mine. His thumb gives me comfort. “It’s all for the celebration. We need to celebrate today, right? The celebration just for the two of us, without any audience. I need to savour the moment just with you.”  
I don’t know what to say. Malfoy sounds so honest to me. Like he falls for me but I don’t give him any potion for the scar. He’s in pain and I hesitate to bring the potion.   
Should I tell him?  
“Let’s just eat.” I pull my hand slowly. “I am rather starving actually.” I load my plate with a good amount of mashed potatoes and Malfoy laugh. I don’t think I ever heard this laugh before.   
“So, what do you think about James Sirius?” Malfoy asks me after I have three spoons of my food. The food is amazing. I think I have to learn how to cook from the kitchen elves from now on. “I think it’s scary that he looks like Harry too much.”  
“Not that much, really.”  
“As long as the boy who lived didn’t clone himself, it’s fine.”  
I eye him, but it’s funny enough I laugh a second later. Why I laugh so much in front of him?  
“Don’t you see it, Hermione? There’s no Ginny in that baby!”  
“Stop talking, start eating.” I put some stew on his plate. Apparently, he hasn’t eaten anything. “You shall not say it like that. It could develop into a bad karma.”  
“Really? A Malfoy heir without blond hair, grey eyes, and super gorgeous appearance? I don’t need any karma to produce such an heir. We, Malfoy, famous for the very dominant gen. Didn’t you marry me for that reason?”  
“For what reason exactly?” I eye him cautiously.  
“To have a flawless heir!”  
I can’t help it. I laugh so hard until my side hurts while I reach for his hand, rubbing it on my cheek to feel the warm. “Yes, one of the reasons.”  
“But they will be still flawless with your curly hair. Or your brown eyes. I don’t mind,” he whispers. Our food forgotten.  
“I’ll mind. Producing an heir that looks like me not the reason I married you, you git!”   
We smile to each other. But the more I look to that face, to that Malfoy, the more I feel I don’t belong with him. There’s the other Hermione Granger deserves him. But she’s not me. I’m scared for a second. The anxiety kicks me hard so fast. Yeah, I have to do what is right. So I ask Malfoy, “Hey, I think I need to tell you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think about this chapter? Please leave comments and kuddos!


	5. Anxiety, Lungs, and Muggle Doctor

TO MARRY A BLONDE GIT  
Chapter 5: Anxiety, Lungs, and Muggle Doctor  
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling  
This story belongs to @honsukasara  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“Tell me… Tell me what? Is it something serious?”

The atmosphere suddenly drops. Malfoy’s face turns a few scales paler and I can’t stop thinking that something must be wrong. Is it something I’ve said earlier? When I told him about ‘something’, does it mean a peculiar thing? 

But the look in his eyes is so concerned. I know it well. I’ve dealt with those looks for months. Since the end of The Battle of Hogwarts. It means that I am somewhat crazy and people around me should be extra careful just to talk to me. 

My hands tremble against the desk. The warm and nice Malfoy isn’t there anymore. I can’t take it. Sweat dripping on my forehead and it feels like this room has too low oxygen level. I can’t breathe. Too cold. Too crowd. The spirit of the deaths shouting in both my ears, still demanding, why wasn’t I, the great golden girl, save them all. Too much deaths. Why am I still here with beating heart? That’s not something I want. But still, why wasn’t I dead. Why should them? Remus, Tonks, Colin, Lavender, Snape, Dumbledore…

“Hey, love… Love, relax…”  
No, I don’t want to relax.

“Should we go to the muggle doctor?”

What? “No doctor!!!”

No… No… No… I am not worthy enough to come back to the world where I’ve been throwing my parents like they were strangers.

“No doctor. Yes, no doctor. I am so sorry. Relax, please, I am here…”

It works. I belong here more than there. At least I can see the ones left behind here. The family of the victims. They’ll remind me of my fault. I’ve failed them. I’ve failed myself but it’s okay because there are people who will always remind me of my mistakes and failure.

“I know it hurts. I am sorry. We should go straight to bed, shouldn’t we?”

All are blur. I almost can’t sense anything. My body feels like flying, but this time, I think I am more ready to falling through the free fall. Yet there are arms around me, not letting me fall. Malfoy’s arms. Finally I fall, but I land on a very soft bed. Apparently I was not in such a high. Not high enough to crush me to my death like other victims. Then there is the darkness. The lack of light behind my eyelids sounds inviting, so I open my eyes, quiet and slow.

“Hey, alright?” Malfoy face is right in front of me. Apparently now we’re lying side by side on a king-sized bed with a very nice comforter. Silk. Malfoy standard, I guess. So I nod, can’t trust my voice right now. “It doesn’t hurt anymore?”

“I am alright.” I manage to say. I don’t even know what is he talking about. Nothing is hurt except my mental stability.

“Good. Good.”

I don’t realize it before, but then I know that the tremble in my hands don’t belong to me anymore. Malfoy hands hold both of my palms and they tremble as hard as mine before. And, believe it or not, Malfoy is crying. Even within this dark bedroom, I can see him, not five inches from my own face. He cries so elegantly that I am asking myself whether the Malfoy genes are that superior. 

“Hey, I am fine.” I tell him. “ I was fine, just… anxiety.”

The word ‘anxiety’, I don’t know why, somehow attracts Malfoy. “Anxiety?”

“I was talking about something, right? On the dinner table.” Malfoy looks terrified. What is it? “I wish I could tell you. I almost told you. But now I’m not sure.”

“Don’t you think we should wait until tomorrow for such serious talk? It was you who made me promise after all.” What promise? “We should only feel happiness today.”

The other Hermione must be the one that made the promise. I am not sure what the promise is. Maybe I’ll know tomorrow. So I mimic Malfoy, “We should only feel happiness today.”

Malfoy has stopped crying, but the cheeks are still wet. Was my condition that bad? As if he can read my mind, Malfoy says again, “We can talk about your lungs and the muggle doctor tomorrow. Now let’s just sleep, love. You’re fine for the night.”

Lungs? What about my lungs?

The curiosity takes over me like a big wrecking ball, pounding the brain within my head until I close my eyes. I want to ask him, sure I want. But the talks are over. Tomorrow, there’s still tomorrow to know about lungs and muggle doctor. Wait, a Malfoy, a pureblood elite, talking about muggle doctor? It must be serious if one Draco Malfoy even considered a muggle doctor. I speculate for a few hours with my eyes closed, until my head numb. Malfoy breathing tells me that he has slept while holding me. 

I can wait for a few hours. I can wait. And perhaps, I can tell him about myself too tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me, guys?


	6. Confession

Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling  
This story belongs to @honsukasara  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
The light peaks from the curtains wakes me up that morning. For a few seconds, I don’t really want to get up for only answering questions when I open my bedroom door. Harry and Ron know better than to bother me that early in the morning and Ginny rarely ask a thing other than the state of my hair when she brings me my breakfast, but Mrs. Weasley could be very bad. She has a good reason---or a bunch of reasons, really---to ask questions, but I just can’t find it in me to answer one, let alone all of them. All I want every day for the last few months is just lying on my bed all day and humming my apologies to all war casualties. They deserve better than deaths and permanent injuries. I deserve worse than few temporary injuries. Besides, I haven’t felt any pain for weeks now.

The soft and warm blanket are smelt like a nice yet not familiar thing, but I snuggle closer to it regardless. There hasn’t pounding on the door so maybe now’s still six in the morning or something. I almost go the darkness of my dream again when a groan interrupts me.

“Morning, love. I know you’ve woken up.”

And all the memories from yesterday rushing back to me. The compartment, the blinding light, the wedding, the future. Oh, Merlin, I wasn’t dreaming.

Malfoy holds me closer to him and I let him, don’t even answer his greeting because the anxiety is taking over. Again. My body is going stiff and I start to tremble. When was the last time a death eater touching me this intense? Oh, right. That night when I got the mudblood tattoo. Screw you, Bellatrix Lestrange!

“Something’s wrong?”

I can feel Malfoy’s finally fully awake. He puts his hands on my shoulders and ease the tremble away. Magically, it works. Perhaps he knows wandless spell for panic attack or something. Or not. His hands are just too warm and comfortable and inviting. Even better than Harry’s and Ron’s and Ginny’s.

My body feels better, but I still cannot bring my voice out. So I stay still, too afraid to look at Malfoy eyes. “Should we go to the doctor now, Hermione? There’s that emergency room in muggle hospital, right? I forgot the name but I’ll take you there. Hold on.”

Malfoy is in panic. He shouts worriedly to me as if I’m dying although I know better that a panic attack can never kill people except when one’s fall or drown or something when the tremble starts. Or is it true? I’m dying in this dimension? Oh, God. I really am dying.

“Draco…” I whisper.

His head jolts to my direction. “Yes, love? Can you breathe? Slowly, Hermione. I’ll be bringing you there as soon as possible. I just need to grab...”

“Draco, stop!” I shout at him. Then I realize it fast and the heat burning through my cheeks. I haven’t shouted at anyone since forever. Let alone Malfoy. Draco.

“What is it?” Malfoy’s focus is straight to me. He’s looking deep through my eyes yet found nothing. I can tell. “Is it that bad today?”

He jogs towards me. The second he can reach me from my place, still on the bed, the arms wrapped around me. “Yes. It’s really bad,” I whisper. “It’s really really bad and I don’t even know how to start explaining to you. You’d be mad. I know it.” The sentence still likely comes in mere whispers but the look in his eyes makes me wonder if he gets what I said earlier or not.

“Tell me, please.”

This is it. I’ll tell him now or never. The courage is building and adrenaline rushes through my body. I love this life of the other Hermione Granger, but I can steal it from her, right? What if we swapped dimensions and times so now she has to put up with the bastard Malfoy inside Hogwarts Express compartment, wondering why her amazing lover doesn’t even know her sickness.

“I’m an imposter, Draco. I’m not your Hermione Granger.” I cry. Hard. Malfoy must be mad. He must be looking for his wand now and try to curse me.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Still enjoying it?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! it's Sara again. If you enjoy the story, please leave kudos and comments. I will truly appreciate that :)


End file.
